Quick post today. Last night I had the opportunity to drink a pint of Fulton's Sweet Child of Vine at 3 Squares Restaurant in Maple Grove. It blew my mind. This beer is amazing, but only available at select pubs in the Twin Cities area. I liken it to a Summit IPA with more taste; it's hard to describe. In any event, if you find yourself wondering what to try next time you're out, give this beer a shot.
(And no, this is not another cheesy paid endorsement. However, if the Fulton folks are reading this I would be interested in a sponsorship deal. Maybe a naming rights thing...like "I just watched the Wild game in the Fulton Sweet Child of Vine Basement...")
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Bobbleheads
Over the years I've collected some bobbleheads. Don't ask my why, I honestly don't know. I've got some baseball players (Puckett, Koskie, etc...), a few miscellaneous ones (Jawa, Nelson Munch), but I have yet to purchase a hockey bobblehead. Why is this?
Could this be because I consider hockey to be a more serious game, something that shoudn't be cartoonized like baseball? I can't imagine staring at a Mikko Koivu bobblehead resting on top of my cabinet, it just wouldn't sit right. Hockey is a sport that demands everything from those who play it, and for that I won't disrespect the sport by playing with little hockey men with heads that shake.
If you are interested in purchasing NHL hockey memorabilia, I won't hold it against you. In fact, I drink from a tiny Stanley Cup each June.
Could this be because I consider hockey to be a more serious game, something that shoudn't be cartoonized like baseball? I can't imagine staring at a Mikko Koivu bobblehead resting on top of my cabinet, it just wouldn't sit right. Hockey is a sport that demands everything from those who play it, and for that I won't disrespect the sport by playing with little hockey men with heads that shake.
If you are interested in purchasing NHL hockey memorabilia, I won't hold it against you. In fact, I drink from a tiny Stanley Cup each June.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
A Spiritual Walk
Since the Minnesota Wild's season ended I've spent some time away from the game and from blogging in general. I've spent time watching some baseball, reading some books (check out David Mitchell's work if you can) and thinking plenty about hockey. Oh sure, I've watched some of the playoff games too, mind you, but not with the interest and tenacity of past years.
Why did I do this, you ask? To develop a deeper understanding and appreciation of the Zen of Hockey.
What does it mean about life when someone like Marek Zidlicky sucks terribly with the Wild, whines and behaves like a 3 year old to get traded, and is now playing a key role on a Cup Semi-Finalist? Why does a team that no one supposedly care about defy the odds and look like a Cup favorite? And most importantly, why does Pierre McGuire look like he wants to make out with any player he interviews?
These questions represent only the tip of the proverbial iceberg I've been dealing with lately. Along the way in my journey I've spent time doing some sportsbook review, only to realize I couldn't predict my way out of an oversized pizza box. And yes, I'm not quite sure what that analogy means either, but just go with me for a bit. I guess what I'm trying to say that the Minnesota Wild wore me down this past season, to the point where I couldn't even get interested in teams that were playing at high levels. To start of the season with so much promise, only to fall to earth like Skylab with a balding young astronaut at the helm. (Better analogy, thank you.) I needed to spend some time away from puck in order to move to a better place.
Well, I'm here to report that my spiritual walk has concluded and I'm ready to begin the begin. It starts tonight when I'll make some chorizo nachos, pour a cold glass of Surly's Furious and watch the game I once (and maybe again) loved.
What does it mean about life when someone like Marek Zidlicky sucks terribly with the Wild, whines and behaves like a 3 year old to get traded, and is now playing a key role on a Cup Semi-Finalist? Why does a team that no one supposedly care about defy the odds and look like a Cup favorite? And most importantly, why does Pierre McGuire look like he wants to make out with any player he interviews?
These questions represent only the tip of the proverbial iceberg I've been dealing with lately. Along the way in my journey I've spent time doing some sportsbook review, only to realize I couldn't predict my way out of an oversized pizza box. And yes, I'm not quite sure what that analogy means either, but just go with me for a bit. I guess what I'm trying to say that the Minnesota Wild wore me down this past season, to the point where I couldn't even get interested in teams that were playing at high levels. To start of the season with so much promise, only to fall to earth like Skylab with a balding young astronaut at the helm. (Better analogy, thank you.) I needed to spend some time away from puck in order to move to a better place.
Well, I'm here to report that my spiritual walk has concluded and I'm ready to begin the begin. It starts tonight when I'll make some chorizo nachos, pour a cold glass of Surly's Furious and watch the game I once (and maybe again) loved.
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